Children of the Moon
by LoupGarouAngel
Summary: AU. The Winchesters will always be cursed. T for gore.
1. Chapter 1

**Kansas, 1841**

The full moon hung low in the sky, burning a deep fiery orange as it slowly rose above the never ending plains of Kansas. The air was heavy and humid, clinging to the skin of the young lovers who lay out beneath the stars and moon, the young man's bright green eyes glimmering mischievously as his fingers delicately traced the woman's figure beneath her sundress. She smiled softly and leaned in for a kiss, her hand brushing faintly freckled cheeks, fingers traveling through soft dark blonde hair as his soft lips met her.

A moment later she pulled away as a howl echoed through the night.

"Dean, did you hear that?" Her soft brown eyes turned to the young man as he sat with a look of displeasure at the interruption.

"Just wolves, Scarlett. Your papa and mine are probably out huntin' the damn things as we speak." Dean replied with a smirk.

She sighed and smiled back at him, black hair tousling around her face beautifully in the night scene. With a chuckle Dean pulled her in for another kiss, but a shrill scream of a woman tore brutally though the night, startling them both. Dean's eyes went wide as realization struck.

"Mom!" He gasped, scampering to get up he took off running to the small ranch home and barn in the distance.

Tall prairie grass swished loudly and tore at his bare feet, eyes panicked and heart racing as his thoughts swarmed with what could have caused his mother to scream in such a way. The barn finally approached, the distance seeming to take him forever to breech.

He knew something was wrong as soon as he saw the barn doors were pulled clean off the hinges, large claw marks carved deep within the wood.

"Mom!" Dean screamed as ran in, dim candle light and the soft glow of the rising moon that filtered in through the shabby little barn revealed a huge, bulking shadow against the back wall. At the sound of young Winchester's voice the shadow turned toward him, stepping beneath one of the melting candles, it revealed itself.

A huge wolf stood before Dean, its face was pulled back in a snarl and bright blue eyes glared from beneath a furrowed brow as it studied its interruption. It crept closer, stunning Dean as it stood from its crouching position onto two legs, it furry ears brushing the ceiling. It growled lowly, eyes shifting back and forth, Dean looked to what the creature was protecting… and saw his dead mother.

Blonde curls covered in her own blood, face frozen pale in fear, her chest and abdominal torn to bloody shreds, Dean felt vomit burn at the back of his throat. But he stopped himself as he saw his little brother, his little Sammy, a mere foot from his mother, face splattered with blood, but shaking in wild fear as he tried to crawl away.

Dean felt a burning rage in himself, in one swift move he grabbed a sharp pitchfork from the wall and ran screaming toward the beast. The beast roared loudly and leaped at its attacker, Dean swinging the pitchfork with all his strength into the gut of the thing. The wolf howled in agony as it clashed with weapon, it fell into the young Winchester with snapping jaws as it fought for its life.

Dean felt the heavy mass of fur and fangs slam into him, fear gripped him tighter as he lost his bearings. He felt claws rip into his chest as the thing scrambled to get up, Dean screaming in pain as it snarled in rage. The beast thrashed to try and stand, but the pitchfork that penetrated its gut had clipped its spinal cord, its legs now paralyzed and useless. It glared down at the man who had hindered him, the human in it knowing he had caused this, the wolf just wanting an escape, it dove for Dean's neck with a snarl.

Dean gasped as he saw fangs flashing toward him, with a quick reflex he swung his right fist with all his might, knuckles colliding with the beasts' eye. The thing barley seemed to notice the blow, the blows impact merely redirecting the fangs away from his jugular to his shoulder. Dean felt fangs sink into soft flesh, pain so deep he wasn't able to breathe, then without warning a gunshot tore through the air.

Dean took in a sharp breath, he shook violently as shock swept his system but felt relief when the weight was pulled off of him and he found his father looking down at him. Dean couldn't find the strength to speak, he only shook and tried to breath as his father kneeled beside him, eyes full of rage and pain as tears brimmed them. He softly laid a hand on Dean's unharmed shoulder, he looked at his eldest son with sorrow and regret.

"You're gonna be alright, son."

John looked past Dean and saw his dead wife.

"Mary…" He whispered as the sight shocked and terrified him, he stood paralyzed in overwhelming emotion.

Scarlet and her father stepped inside the barn, the young girl immediately bursting into tears and running out screaming, her father Richard lowered his gun as he realized he was too late.

"Oh my God…" He whispered, hand coming to his mouth as the sight of blood and death swarmed him.

Sam had crawled next to Dean, sobbing and covered in blood from both his mother and himself, he clutched at his older brother.

"D-d-dad… we g-g-got to save Dean." He shook so hard he was hardly able to speak, his father's attention returning to his two sons.

Dean had fallen unconscious, but he was still breathing in fast, shallow breaths as he fought for to survive.

"Richard, help me get Dean inside." John felt himself falling apart, but ignored it as he realized his dying son needed him.

"Sammy, are you okay?" John looked to his youngest son, the blood against his innocent face filled him with gut wrenching pain.

Sam shook his head yes.

"It bit my leg when I went to run…" Sam said quietly.

John gave a nod and returned his sight to his eldest son. Richard grabbed Dean's legs as John carefully picked up his shoulders and they hauled him from the small barn to the house.

Sam slowly followed, eyes not going back once to see the body of his dead mother, of the evil thing that had killed her.

xXx

Later that night as Dean slept with his wounds patched to the best of John's abilities and his little brother Sammy beside him for both comfort and love, John returned to the barn.

He slowly approached Mary, the stench of blood and death making his stomach churn, but he held it together as he crouched beside her. He began to sob, tears streaming down his face into his untamed beard as shaky hands pushed the soft blonde curls away from her placid face, he leaned in and softly kissed her forehead.

"Goodbye, Mary." He whispered softly.

He stood slowly, jaw clenched in rage he grabbed the oil lantern that hung from the ceiling and smashed the thing to the ground, flames quickly swallowing the hay filled floor. John walked out, glaring down at where the beast had just been, his eyes widened in shock, it was now a dead man covered in blood with his guts strewn across the floor.

John narrowed his eyes and stepped over the man and out of the barn, he turned back, the heat of the growing flames biting at his face as he took one last look at the scene. He glared at the body of the man.

"Burn in hell you son of a bitch." He growled, then turned away from the barn and headed back toward the house.

Richard stepped out as he got to the door, his neighbor and friend looking ten years old since the start of the night, John himself looking much rough and weather worn.

"John, we gotta talk."

"Not now Richard." John replied, exhaustion taking him over.

"John, we knew something funny was going on when we were out hunting wolves tonight. Not one for miles, all the animals were freaked, and then we hear commotion at your place only to find the devil himself in your barn! You know that was no normal wolf that killed your wife and almost your boy in there? You know this is the devils work?" Richard asked, brown eyes frantic as he studied John for some kind of reaction.

"Richard, go home." John glared at him, going to brush past him and into his home, but Richard put up a hand to stop him.

"John… if this IS the devils work, if that was a werewolf, you know your boys might be now to. They were both bitten and if they were to become that thing you might have to…"

John slammed a fist into Richards cheek, taking him off guard he pressed him against the wall.

"Stay away from me and my sons. If I catch you around here again, I will kill you." John said lowly, eyes burning into the other man.

With that Richard slunk off, glaring back as the eldest Winchester watched him with hard eyes. Once out of sight John closed his eyes and fought off the tears that threatened to fall once again. But he failed as the sobs shook him so hard he slid down the wall and laid on the ground in defeat, watching the barn with his dead wife burn inside, he realized his life had become a living Hell.

And that was only the beginning.

xXx

The next morning John packed everything away, bought two horses and a wagon from the neighbor and knew that once Dean healed they would be headed back east. He needed to find somewhere safe for the next full moon…

xXx

Dean healed to fast. Sam became too strong for a normal twelve year old. Dean came home every night with some sort of game. Sam's temper went from bad to horrible. Dean went from the protective older brother and son to overly protective and territorial family member, nearly killing a man who got to close with a gun.

John knew what was happening, knew what his sons were becoming. Dean didn't remember the fight, so John knew he probably had no clue what was going on. And he figured Sam probably didn't even realize how strange he and his brother were acting.

They found a place in Illinois with no one around for hundreds of miles. Dean and Sam pestered their father as to why they had moved to an even more secluded area then before, but John simply told them it was temporary, until he earned enough money for a place in town this would have to do.

The night of the full moon they didn't have anything built, but John had prepared in other ways. Stealing chains and metals along the way, he had fastened two restraints, he prayed to God they were strong enough to contain what his boys were to become.

The three sat by the fire in the setting sun, John stood and went to the wagon, slowly pulling out the chains he called Dean over. With one swift move he took the bulk of the chains and slammed them at the base of Dean's neck. Sam screamed as he watched his brother fall unconscious.

"Sammy, he's fine. But I need you to listen…" John calmly explained to Sam what he thought was happening to both of them as he chained Dean to a tree, cuffs binding his feet and hands, a horses harness collar trailing from his neck and shoulders to the tree.

"So I need you to do this Sammy. I don't want you getting hurt or for you to hurt anyone. If I'm wrong, I'll let you and your brother both go, but you have to trust me."

Sam was crying, he looked at his father in shock and fear.

"How can I trust you? You didn't even give Dean a chance…."

"Dean wouldn't have believed me, he doesn't remember the fight, please Sammy, the moon will be rising soon. You saw the thing that killed your mother, you know it wasn't just a wolf…"

Flashes of his mother's death played in his mind, the face of the beast forever burned into his memory. He looked to his father with hurt eyes, he knew the truth.

"Okay…" He whispered, John nodding sadly as his son stuck out his arms, willingly he let himself be chained up.

John sat by the fire once again, rifle in hand as watched the last few rays of light disappear beyond the horizon. The moon rose slowly, going from orange to white as time passed, John nervously watching it and his sons. Dean awoke before midnight, letting out an angry outburst he fought his hardest against the restraints until Sam convinced him to stop. John remained silent the entire time.

Sometime after midnight Sam felt it, hot and boiling in his blood he felt pain like never before as he shifted from boy to beast. Dean fought it, tried to desperately cling to his humanity, but failed as the fangs slid out and his form became monstrous.

John watched with sorrowful eyes. He knew he should do them all a favor and shoot them both, then himself. But he just couldn't do it, no matter what they became, they were still his sons, and he could never kill them.

He stared at the two large wolves, bound and barely able to move, their power and beauty still showed through. Dean was larger, dirty blonde fur with bright green eyes that were full of rage as he tried to free himself, his frame was powerful and deadly, a mix of man and wolf. Sam was much smaller, more legs then muscle, his dark brown fur shaggier then his brothers, he hazel eyes full of confusion and fear.

John looked toward to moon and cursed it, an he swore that he would kill every single Supernatural creature that the night had to offer.

xXx

Years went by and John grew angry. The night in which the boys had shifted had broken something within him. Sure, he loved his sons, his love stopped him from killing them, but not from beating them. Deep down, he feared them, but both brothers were so full of guilt and hurt that they obediently listened to his every command.

Every full moon he would beat them unconscious, chain them up then watch all night with rifle in hand.

The first few years he didn't realize he could use them and their curse to aid him in the hunting of other creatures, until one close Wendigo hunt. John usually had them for back up, but they had gotten separated and he found himself under the creature itself, about to die until it was pulled off and by a fully shifted Dean, he tore it apart as John stared transfixed at the scene.

John was scared out of his wits seeing Dean free, in wolf form in broad daylight, but he realized with training, they could become two supreme hunters. He had beat Dean unconscious after he killed the Wendigo, unsure if his son was about to turn on him, but the idea was planted.

He started pushing the boys to the emotional edge, trying to find the trigger. He found Dean's was protectiveness and Sam's was rage. He was curious as to why it hadn't showed sooner, but he realized it seemed they were both fully mature werewolves, both were young men in their twenties now, the seeming ending age of change.

This went on for a few more years, John chaining them up and then pushing for the shift, and once they were monsters he would beat them into obedience. Dean would always give first, and John started asking him questions in wolf form, never receiving any kind of answer, but Dean was starting to remember what happened after the shift, sometimes able to recall parts of a question. Sam was always so full of rage when he shifted though, and it took John so long to beat him into obedience that the wolf seemed to tune him out completely. But it slowly wore on Sam, a layer of seething hate was always there, but he finally gave once Dean was able to shift at will, without John's beating, and have an immediately submissive mindset.

John realized it was a new era of hunting for them, one full of revenge and death to all the creatures that roamed America.

xXx

It had been 15 years since the incident. Dean was 30 and Sam was 26, John was quickly approaching 60. The same routine of hunts and kills had been going on for a time now, and it was one of the few nights they took time off and relaxed in town.

John was out at the bar while Sam lay sleeping in the overnight cabin, Dean was presumably secretly out with some girl. Neither ever let John know because they knew he may put a bullet in his brain for risking the life of some woman, but Dean knew more than his father that there was not a chance he would shift unless called upon.

John suddenly crashed through the door, waking Sam quickly, angry when he found Dean was gone.

"Go find your brother, we've got a kill."

Sam was easily able to find Dean and they quickly ran to meet their father on the outskirts of town, expecting to find a vampire or shapeshifter or some sort of creature. Instead they found an unconscious man.

"I need you boys to finish the job, frankly all I have left is silver bullets and I'm not wasting them on a human murderer."

Sam looked to his father in rage.

"You want us to kill a human?" He growled.

"I would never want you to kill a human, but he's a murderer, he deserves it." John replied, the scent of alcohol strong.

Dean shifted nervously, fear and panic rising in him. Sam inhaled sharply and closed his eyes, collecting himself.

"No."

John quirked and eyebrow then scowled at him, "Don't you tell me now boy! Just do it."

Then Sam snapped. With a roar he lunged for his father and pinned him down, easily pushing his hand down when his father went to hit him.

"No more. I'm done listening to your every word, done living your life of revenge. I'm going, and you're not going to stop me." Sam growled, his eyes full wolf now as the hazel swarmed into the white.

Sam stood, John not moving from where he lay. With a growl Sam turned, facing his brother.

"Dean, you can't stay." Sam asked, stepping toward his brother.

"Leave Sam, and I'll hunt you down myself." John said lowly.

Sam locked eyes with his brother, Dean's hurt and confusion was clear, and there was no way he could make this choice.

"Come on Dean, we can be free from all of this!"

"Dean, don't you dare…"

The three stood in silence for a moment, Dean's eye darting between his father and brother. His family loyalties drawn in two different directions.

"I'm sorry Sam… I-I can't."

Sam swallowed hard and sighed, "Goodbye then Dean… I hope to see you around."

And with that Sam ran past his brother, away from his father and toward a new life.

xXx

More years passed, but Sam and Dean didn't age. John realized as he turned old and grey while Dean still looked twenty five that the curse was more than just a lifetime of Hell for them, it was all of time.

Dean hadn't seen Sam since that night, and it killed him. He thought of his brother every day, wished he would see that familiar face once again. But he never did.

So Dean just kept hunting, John did until he was to crippled to do so.

John remained angry, unloving toward his eldest son and even on his death bed didn't tell him he loved him. Dean buried his father and for the first time in his life, he was completely alone.

The day his father died, his search for Sam started.

xXx

**Apologies if this seemed rushed, I wanted to get past out of the way in the first chapter, because the next chapters are about Sam and Dean rejoining in the present and their adventures from that point. Let me know what ya think!**


	2. Chapter 2

New York City, Present Day

The bar was much too high class for Dean, much too prestigious and full of people in overly priced labels drinking over priced fruity cocktails with ridiculous men thinking they were on top of the business world. When in all actuality they were just a bunch of loser. But duty called, and duty these days was tracking people for money.

Dean had been in the business for a while now, just the usual getting you blackmailing materials, catching a cheating spouse or finding out some unsolved mysteries for business people. But mainly it was work for organized crime. It honestly didn't fit Dean's style one bit, he didn't exactly enjoy it all that much but the money was fantastic and allowed him to become invisible in society.

The best part was he only had to take on few cases a year, four at the most, while the rest of his time was spent traveling the back roads of America in his prized 1967 Impala. When he had seen her, it was love at first sight, and he had sworn he would never own a car after her purchase, it was both his first and last car in a way.

On his travels, he still mostly looked for Sam. In all his travels, in over one hundred years Dean had not seen Sam once. For the longest time he thought Sam must be dead or never wanted to be found, but something deep within him denied this idea. Sam wasn't dead, it just seemed that no matter what, they were destined to never be in the same place at the same time. He had tried hunting Sam in every way he knew possible, but Sam had been trained the same as himself, knowing exactly how to stay under the radar.

So for the past fifty years Dean had given up on hunting for Sam all the time, now he took on hunts and just kept his eyes open. He always kept his nose keen, searching for the only scent he could ever call home, but no longer clutched to it as he once had. Dean simply lived, it was lonely, but it was all he knew.

Dean had realized early on that he was excellent at undercover type work, it came with the whole predator thing. It had all started with the prohibition in the 30's, while in a speakeasy in downtown Chicago he overheard the owner of the place talking about a thief that was stealing from his main alcohol warehouse. Dean couldn't help himself for some odd reason and told the owner he bet he could catch the guy for him, the owner said if he did he would pay a very large sum of money to him. Dean caught the guy and Dean had his way into the realm or organized crime and its sneaky ways.

Of course all the guys these days simply thought Dean was the grandchild of the legendry spy and stalker they had heard of.

Dean had even been a hit man in a few instances, he regretted those times now, but what had happened in the past could not be undone, so it goes.

As Dean seated himself at the glass bar he realized that fate was indeed a very funny thing. Out of all the places, all his travels, he had never expected to find Sam here.

At first Dean thought he maybe imagining things, for the scent was a quick whiff, there a moment then gone. But as Dean swept his gaze around place he saw the undeniably large frame, shaggy although now slicked back hair, shining hazel eyes and a sweet smile with dimpled cheeks, he confirmed his sanity was not lost.

Dean sat for a moment, allowing the information to process. He stared at his brother, like himself he had not aged a day past twenty five. He sat at a small round table with in a very expensive looking suit, with a very beautiful woman. Dean perked his ears to try and tap into what they were saying, the distance and people made it tough but he could hear just enough to make out they were talking about laws of some sort.

He was unsure of what to do, all these years of waiting and now he seemed to have been hit with a bout of stage fright. He didn't want to interrupt him while with this woman, but he didn't want to let Sam slip away either. Sam had still not caught his scent somehow, so seizing the opportunity Dean quickly stood and snuck out. He would wait for Sam to leave then follow him to where he was staying, he needed to talk to Sam alone, and he couldn't risk another being there.

Besides, following people was what Dean did. The thought made him grin.

xXx

An hour and a half later Dean had followed Sam to the highly upscale apartments in Manhattan. He had called a cab for his lady friend, then walked himself home. Dean had stuck to the shadows, lingering here and there as he watched his baby brother make his way through the concrete jungle. Dean's blood was rushing in anxiousness and excitement, the wolf clawing at the back of his mind as it begged to reunite with the only true pack he had ever had.

But Dean paced himself, remained down wind and slowly made his way toward the reunion of the century. Literally.

Dean knew he could have stepped in as soon as Sam had said goodbye to the woman, but had honestly wanted to study his younger brother and see what about him may have changed. For one, he now walked with an undeniable confidence in his stride. All those years Dean and him had literally slunk around John, although as Sam grew older he began to fight what they did but in the end he would always submit. Sam also smelled just a tad different. The wolf was still there, but the very musk of it was weaker, as if he hadn't shifted in a while.

Over the years Dean had come to find that one could control the shifts like a mindset, no trigger needed, not even the full moon. But it did hold a certain power that even if one held back, they felt incredibly restless the rest of the night. He had also found that there was a limitless time one could spend as a wolf, he had been a wolf for two straight years at one point.

Sam stood outside the door, about to go in and Dean swallowed hard as he froze like a deer in the headlights, unsure of how to proceed. He was annoyed at himself, he never got like this, but his brother was a whole different story. Sighing he decided he mine as well just reveal himself. He stepped from the shadows into the streetlights, quietly making his way forward toward the glass entrance as Sam neared it. Sam rose his hand for the handle and Dean called out.

"Ya don't call, ya don't write, what's a brother to do?"

Dean stopped, eyes searching frantically for a reaction as Sam snapped around to look at him. Brow furrowed in confusion, mouth tight with worry and a suddenly protective stance, Dean stood at the ready for anything.

"Dean? Is… is that really you?" Sam still stood unmoving, the two standing a good ten foot apart in an awkward unknowingness.

"Do you really think a shapeshifter, no pun intended, would show up as your long lost brother? Then again seems you're sporting some serious dough these days so maybe…" Dean trailed off with a smirk.

Sam relaxed and finally smiled, soft and warm he stepped forward and grasped Dean in a tight hug.

"It's really good to see you Dean." Sam said quietly as he pulled away.

"You too, Sammy… " Dean nodded, unsure of what else to say.

"Would you like to come up? I think we have, what? Hundred plus years of catching up to do?" Sam grinned, eyes more confident then Dean had ever seen them. He wasn't at all the Sam he had remembered, but then again, Dean realized he wasn't the same either.

"You sure you want me to?" Dean asked, suddenly uneasy about talking about the past hundred years of his life, even with his brother.

Sam faltered for a moment, brow creasing as he studied Dean.

"Is there a reason I shouldn't?" His protective stance creeping back.

"It's just… I thought you may have been avoiding me all these years." Dean said with a shrug, hours of his thoughts had said just that, he needed to tell Sam upfront.

Sam sighed and relaxed, "Dean, come on up and I will tell you the exact reason you never saw me. I did look for you though, and more than once, but you're not an easy guy to find."

They smiled at one another, slowly realizing that until stories were told, things could not be understood, but both were desperately wanting to hear, tell and understand.

Dean smiled and looked up at the building then back at Sam as he opened the door and he followed him in.

"You better have case cold, it's gonna be a long night."

xXx

**Short chapter compared to the last, but the next one is going to be so long. Lots of history, explaining, high emotions, ect. Sorry if they may seem a bit OOC with one another, but the fact that neither has seen each other, and that Dean has been so lonely, this was what I figured them as. Feedback is always appreciated!**


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